


Four Times John Sheppard Didn't Really Get Married And One Time He Did

by unadrift



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Humor, Intoxication, M/M, Marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 09:26:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17118731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unadrift/pseuds/unadrift
Summary: "You should get married more often," Rodney said.





	Four Times John Sheppard Didn't Really Get Married And One Time He Did

**Author's Note:**

> I'm reposting this from sga_flashfic. Somehow this fic never made it to AO3. I'm in the process of gathering all my stuff here.
> 
> Original notes: Squishing hugs to tacittype (for saving that entire section) and to naye (for nagging me with details in the best possible way). You guys rock!

**_  
1\. Nancy_ **

It was a Vegas wedding, in the most clichéd possible sense.

His father approved of John's girlfriend of eleven months – her manners, her family background and her ambitions were flawless. Unfortunately, John liked her, too. A lot. It was the longest relationship he'd ever had, and, in his father's opinion, the only thing John had ever done right in his life since joining the Air Force.

To John, Nancy was family in a way he hadn't known before. She _knew_ John in a way no one else did; she understood, or at least made the effort to try. She was fun to be with; her sense of humor was wicked, and she was drop-dead gorgeous. Her single major flaw was that she hated _Star Trek_.

John couldn't remember ever proposing to her, or Nancy proposing to him. It seemed that marriage was a natural direction for their relationship to take. John suspected his father had a hand in that, though he couldn't really say how.

Before he knew it, Nancy was aimlessly leafing through magazines titled _Elegant Bride_ or _You and Your Wedding_ , listening to her mother droning on about the relative merits of roses over lilies, while the family tailor measured John for a tuxedo. No, John wasn't supposed to wear his dress uniform, his father had said – and John ought to keep the crowd of 'your soldier buddies' to the necessary minimum. The ceremony was going to be held in the garden, his mother informed him, and the weather had better be nice, or else. Or else what, she didn't elaborate.

The day his father's secretary, whom John had never met, called to thank him warmly for the kind wedding invitation, was the day Nancy looked at him and said, "I always wanted to go to Vegas."

John "borrowed" Dave's BMW, because it was fast. The journey to Vegas, him and Nancy on the road, that was the memory that stuck with him.

The act itself didn't feel real before the ceremony, when they sorted out the papers with an elderly lady whose glittering dress hurt John's eyes, and it didn't feel real during the ceremony either. Hell, they were being wed by _Elvis_. John could barely keep a straight face, and Nancy seemed to have the same problem. They left the chapel giggling, as husband and wife. At least the certificate in John's hand said so. It didn't feel like that at all. John didn't know how it was supposed to feel, but it couldn't be this.

His father didn't speak to John for a month, which he counted as a success. Dave was happy enough to get his car back in one piece and to be spared the ordeal of a family wedding.

And life with Nancy went on pretty much like it had before. Like the trip to Vegas had never happened.

When the fact that he was _married_ finally sank in, John was just scribbling his signature on the divorce papers. By then their marriage was already over. So in John's mind, it didn't really count. 

 

**_2\. Bates  
_ **

John called in two backup teams to P7J-387 after McKay insisted they needed to locate every single part of the Ancient ruins, "Because, ZPM! Zed! Pe! Em!"

The ruins were mostly overgrown and hard to spot. The locals had promised to help, but they were easily distracted by cultural differences and the simplest pieces of technology. When one of the marines turned on a flashlight to examine a pillar more closely, several of the local girls squealed in delight and bombarded him with questions.

John exchanged a grin with Ford and closed in on Bates, who had waved him over. He was squinting at what looked like an obelisk. "This isn't Ancient writing."

"No," John agreed, frowning. He ran his fingertips over the writings. They weren't carved or painted.

"This looks familiar," Bates said and touched a finger to a word in the stone. "And this."

Bates was right, there were some Ancient expressions thrown in. John didn't particularly like the man. Not at all, to be exact. He was by the book, stubbornly so, with no room for flexibility and creative thinking – which was a dangerous character trait in a soldier. But John had to give it to Bates, the guy clearly wasn't stupid. He was surprisingly observant, too.

"Oh, you should have told us!" One of the squealing girls suddenly appeared out of nowhere, grinning widely. "If we'd known that you were going to marry here and now, we'd have started preparing the feast earlier!"

"Uh," John said. 

Bates managed a heartfelt, "What?!"

"I am so happy for you! May your marriage be blessed!" The girl put her hands first on John's then on Bates's shoulders and squeezed briefly. "I must go now! So much to do!" She ran off, shouting something in the local dialect. Most of the villagers followed her.

"But--" John shouted after her. "Hey!"

"Marriage?" Bates asked faintly.

Stackhouse, who was crawling through undergrowth no more than ten feet away from them, started snickering.

John sighed. He'd never really believed the SGC rumors about fertility rituals, off-world sex, and strange alien customs. Maybe he shouldn't have dismissed them so easily.

***

Any attempts to clear up the misunderstanding were met with polite but confused smiles and more shoulder-squeezing. "Why else would you touch the Relic of Eternal Unity?" a young man asked, smiling. John started to get annoyed now, because everyone around here was smiling _all of the goddamn time_.

"Yes, why?" Bates said darkly, shooting a glare at McKay, the personified reason for this mess. McKay just smirked and said something to Ford, who laughed.

"The ruins carry no significance for the Enfu, other than in connection to their religious beliefs," Teyla explained to John and Bates later. "The concept of advanced technology is not one they understand."

Which wasn't helpful. "So we'll just play along then," John said, not happy. By the looks of it he wasn't nearly half as not-happy as Bates was.

As guests of honor, John and Bates were seated together at the head of the longest table for the feast, on display for everyone. John's face soon started to hurt from the permanent smile he plastered on. Because any less-than-happy facial expression led to more questions than it was worth, especially for the two supposedly blessed grooms.

"So," Ford asked, grinning, after three cups of the local brew, "any plans for the honeymoon?"

Bates looked about ready to pull his gun and shoot him. Probably because he knew that the marines would never let him live this down. Even now, they were snickering a few seats further down the table.

"The mainland is lovely during this time of year," Teyla offered, and John had trouble to keep from laughing, because _Teyla_!

It was when John asked lightly, "Could you pass me the bread, darling?" that Bates snapped.

"Sir," he hissed, and somehow he made it sound like an insult. "I realize that you're very comfortable with this situation, with you being--"

"Sergeant," John interrupted him warningly, before Bates could say anything he'd regret. Because then John would have to do something _he'd_ regret, and that would be the start of a vicious circle neither of them would want to get caught in. Thankfully, Bates snapped out of it. He glared at John, then focused intently on his meal.

The man clearly had no sense of humor. And he was nursing a serious attitude problem. When John was reassured that Bates wasn't going to try and shoot anyone, he found that McKay was staring at him, frozen in mid-chew, with a puzzled expression on his face.

"What?" John demanded.

McKay blinked, started chewing again and swallowed. "You should get married more often," he said and took another bite of the pizza-like hot bread the villagers had served them. "Because this? Is great."

"I'll put it on my agenda," John said.

 

**_3\. Teyla  
_ **

When the head-guy asked "Is this woman taken?" John didn't like his tone at all. He took in the all-male, rather big crowd and remembered the many tired-looking, malnourished servant girls they'd seen on their way to the market place. Stealing a glance at Teyla to make sure that she wasn't going to deck him or anything, John took her hand in his.

"Yes," he said.

There was a disappointed murmur running through the crowd, and a startled gasp somewhere behind John. Hopefully McKay was smart enough not to blow their cover. Or maybe Ronon would quietly strangle him before he could.

"And we're supposed to believe you? I'd love a fine specimen like that as my third wife," the head-guy said, leering at Teyla.

Teyla squeezed John's hand. "We have been married for almost two years," she said. "Abiding by the ritual of our people, he bestowed me with the traditional necklace."

"Oh, is that what they call it these days?" someone at the back of the crowd shouted to general amusement.

Necklace? John felt a little woozy all of the sudden.

"We spoke vows of trust and belonging. I am his and he is mine," Teyla finished matter-of-factly. This induced more laughter.

"It's true," John managed to confirm. 

"You'd be well advised to keep your woman in check," the head-guy said, obviously not entirely convinced. "You wish to trade?"

"Yes," John said, his mind still stuck on _necklace_.

***

They got a good deal out of the Dorani. By the time the negotiations were finished, both Ronon and Rodney had taken John aside during breaks and objected to the way the women were treated on this planet. Yes, even Rodney, who usually didn't pay all that much attention to people when there was science around to focus on. Which told John that it was really as bad as his gut instinct had told him. "What do you want me to do?" he had asked. "Start a revolution?" 

"Yes!" McKay had said, and then, "On second thought, no, don't. You'd only get us killed." He had left the hall with a grim expression, probably rushing back to the library.

The weather had taken a turn for the worse during the afternoon. The rain was falling so heavily that the Dorani advised against risking the trip to the gate. They were moderately happy to offer them shelter for the night. McKay was sold on the idea at the first mention of flash floods and landslides, and John didn't disagree. 

When the head-guy, whose name was Kerin, led John and Teyla to their room, he pinned John with a cold stare. "My room is down the hallway. I'll know it if you don't take pleasure in your wife tonight. I might decide to keep her after all, if she's not really yours."

"Hands off," John said sweetly, and closed the door in his face. Damn the Dorani and their stupid ore. They should have gotten out of there when they still could.

"John," Teyla said.

John turned around and suddenly remembered. "So, uh, are we really--" He gestured helplessly.

"Are we really-- what?" Teyla asked. "Oh. No. Surely you did not believe-- It was the first thing that came to my mind."

The breath of relief John let out then didn't seem to offend Teyla much. "So, there's no such thing as the Athosian wedding necklace?" he asked, just to be sure.

"No." She sat down on the bed. "Shall we start?"

John took a step back. "Start?" he repeated, terrified.

"Convincing them of the nature of our relationship."

"I don't think that's such a good--"

Teyla looked at him in a way that said _I like you, but you're really stupid sometimes_. "They can only _hear_ us."

"Oh," John said and blushed to the roots of his hair. "Right. I'll be over here, then." He sat on a chair in the corner of the room and wondered how the hell to start this.

"Oh, _John_!" Teyla breathed out loudly, and John raised his eyebrows at her. She smiled, eyes twinkling. This was Teyla, John reminded himself and grinned back. He arranged himself more comfortably on the chair. The bed squeaked under Teyla's rhythmic movements. John didn't laugh out loud.

"Ah, oh, yes!" he moaned. This was going to be fun.

***

It had been fun, though surprisingly exhausting and more than a bit surreal. John remembered the night with a grin, right until the moment he laid eyes on Ronon who looked – improbable as it seemed – like a kicked puppy, and Rodney, whose face was unreadable for once. They'd probably been sleeping in the same house, and damn, why hadn't he thought of that? He and Teyla had maybe taken the realism a bit too far.

"Let's get a move on," John said, and they followed him wordlessly.

Teyla grabbed Ronon by the elbow. "We will have-- your six," she said, inclining her head at John.

"Yes," John said. "Okay."

The hike was going to take at least an hour. After five minutes on a fairly steep slope McKay still hadn't complained about the fact that they hadn't come in a jumper. It was disturbing.

"Look, McKay--"

"No."

"Just let me explain--"

"I don't want to hear it. If you think this is worth risking your friendship, and-- and the team, and our-- It's ultimately your decision. How long has this been going on anyway? Wait, I don't want to know. I mean, I can understand why you-- She's a very attractive-- And really, who could blame you for--"

"Rodney!"

"What?"

And because Rodney had him incredibly pissed off for some reason, John said, "I clearly remember you asking me to get married more often."

"We didn't even get a decent meal out of this one, so what's the point?" Rodney snapped and sped up.

John stared after him, wondering how Rodney was going to take the revelation that he was, in fact, an idiot. 

 

**_4\. Lya  
_ **

There was a hand on his cheek and hair tickling his face, but it wasn't until he heard the shout that John managed to concentrate hard enough to blink his eyes open. Huh. Why was he horizontal again?

"Sheppard?"

John recognized the voice and grinned. "Rodney!" he answered happily.

"Oh no," someone breathed right next to his ear. Oh, yes, Lya. John vaguely remembered Lya, the chancellor's daughter. The chancellor's lovely daughter. She was such a nice young woman. She'd brought him wine at the feast. Delicious, fantastic wine. He gave a blissed-out sigh.

Suddenly the door flew open, and Rodney moved into John's line of sight. "You!" Rodney yelled, aiming his gun at some point over John's head. "Get away from him!"

"Her name's Lya," John said, gesturing in her general direction, because he couldn't be bothered to try and turn his head. "She's really really nice."

"Yes. So nice that she drugged you into marrying her. Where are his clothes?"

"Wait!" she said pleadingly. "I didn't want to-- But without consummation the marriage isn't valid. You can't take him from me!"

"Watch me," Rodney snapped. "He's not yours to keep."

At which point Lya started to sob miserably.

"Aw, Rodney," John said. "Don't be so--"

"What, you want to stay?"

It took John a long moment to process the question. "Er, no?" He wanted to go home. To Atlantis.

"Then shut up and get dressed."

 _Get_ dressed? But he was-- Oh. So he wasn't, as such, dressed. At all. John's clothes landed in a heap on his chest. He struggled to sit up on the bed. His pants turned out to be more complicated than he remembered, and his t-shirt was a death trap.

"For god's sake," Rodney muttered. "Help him put on his boots."

Lya was suddenly very close, and her hair smelled flowery, and she tied John's bootlaces with tears streaming down her face.

"Now I'll be forced to marry Horgan." She sobbed again. "I don't even like him."

"I'm sorry," John said sympathetically. He hadn't liked Horgan either.

"Yes, yes," Rodney said and put the gun back into its holster. He pulled John up by one arm. "Why don't you just pack your bags and leave?"

The sobbing stopped. Lya looked back and forth between them. She looked like a devoted spectator at a ping-pong match. It made John dizzy.

"Don't tell me that's never occurred to you," Rodney said incredulously. He shook his head. The movement made John dizzy, too. "Hurry up then, we can take you with us to the stargate. But you're on your own from there! What? I did realize that Horgan is a grade A asshole."

Sometimes John just loved Rodney.

***

In the end it was less John and Rodney taking Lya, and more Lya and Rodney dragging John along. At the edge of the village they took a break. John leaned on a tree, waiting for the world to stop tilting wildly in every which direction. Lya said sorry – four times – and thank you – two times. She told them she had a friend in a village just a few dobs away and vanished into the night.

Ten minutes into the walk to the gate, hanging heavily on Rodney's shoulder, John asked, "Dobs?"

"You're quick on the uptake tonight."

"Blame the wine?" 

Rodney snorted. "Among other things."

Rodney's heavy breathing was the only sound in the night for a while. It was kind of soothing. John's eyelids started to droop, and his feet wouldn't quite obey his commands any more.

"Hey, none of that!" Rodney shouted into his ear. "Stay awake! I'm not going to carry you all the way back. Oh god, I hope she didn't overdose you! But I guess you'd already be dead if she had."

"Rodney," John slurred.

"Right. Just-- Talk to me. Tell me, how do you end up married on every other mission? It's really annoying. I barely manage to keep dating Katie, and I'm surprisingly short of marriage proposals, too."

"There're no proposals," John reminded him. "It just happens. It's not like I'm asking for it or, or anything."

"Beautiful people throw themselves at your feet at every turn, and your only comment on this is that you're not asking for it? Clearly, the looks are wasted on you."

"I have looks?" John really wished he could see Rodney's face now.

"Objectively speaking, from an, uh, objective point of view? Yes? And you're neither dumb nor modest enough not to know and admit it. So spare me the denial."

"I'll never marry for real," John's mouth spoke without consulting his brain first.

There was a beat of silence, then, "Why do you say that?"

"I could-- Only with the right person."

"Wow. You're a romantic. I never would have guessed. And you don't think you're going to meet that woman? That she doesn't exist? Here I thought _I_ was sad and pathetic."

"Person, Rodney. Not neciss-- nececes-- a woman." John was kind of aware of the fact that if he hadn't been drugged up to his eyeballs, he would have stopped this conversation three personal revelations ago.

"See," Rodney said, "I didn't know that. Not for sure."

"So?"

"So what? Am I expected to object?" Rodney said evenly. "I always suspected."

"You didn't."

"I did."

No way. Rodney totally hadn't had a clue. "Didn't."

"Did, too."

"Maybe since Bates."

"Yes, okay. So it was Bates," Rodney admitted, then snorted. "Bates, of all people."

"As a husband he kind of sucked. To think I could have had you--"

Suddenly this stopped just being funny. Rodney's hand tightened on John's wrist. "Not without wining and dining me first," he answered jokingly after a pause.

"Too much effort," John said, relieved, though he didn't exactly know why.

Maybe it was the fact that Rodney had taken this in stride, still John's best friend. Or the fact that Rodney had barged in earlier like a knight in shining armor, using all the right moves, weapon held steady. Or maybe it was the fact that John was really, really high, that made him turn his face and plant a wet kiss on Rodney's cheek. Rodney stumbled, and they both landed face first in the dirt.

"What--" Rodney said. "Never mind. You really are baked."

John grinned. "I am." And because he was very grateful for the rescue and everything, John turned the other way before he puked his guts out. 

 

**_5\. Rodney  
_ **

Rodney shouted, "Come in!" on the first knock. John palmed the door control and found Rodney sitting on his bed, hunched over two laptops at once. He was typing furiously, eyes darting back and forth between the screens.

John pointedly did not sigh. "Aren't you supposed to be resting?"

Rodney didn't look up. "Yeah, well. The city doesn't stand still because Sam says so."

They'd had this discussion – the one in which Rodney called Zelenka colorful names and his staff 'a bunch of stupid morons' – what felt like a million times before. Rodney didn't always win.

"You promised me _Red Dwarf_ ," John said.

"Over there." Rodney waved his hand distractedly. "Somewhere."

There were several stacks of DVDs on the cluttered top of the dresser, with some books among them to make it look more interesting. John had never paid them much attention before. But-- Stephen Hawking? This was excellent blackmail material, John noted for later use. He systematically went through the DVDs, but couldn't find anything he hadn't already watched.

"It might be in one of the drawers," Rodney said absentmindedly.

So John started going through Rodney's drawers, too. It didn't even feel weird the way it should – not until the point when John found the little black box under a copy of a recent _Physical Review Letters_. It was almost cubic in shape, and he knew instantly where he'd seen it before. The lid opened easily. The ring was as elegant and beautiful as he remembered.

Jesus, Rodney had almost gotten engaged then. John blindly took two steps back and narrowly missed one of the laptops when he sat down on the bed.

"Hey!" Rodney yelped and rescued his precious computer. "Are you-- Oh." He fell silent.

"Why did you keep it?" John asked, honestly curious. Because he would have expected Rodney to throw it into the ocean, or use some other equally efficient method of getting rid of the reminder.

Rodney was quiet for an unusually long moment. "Because it cost a lot of money?" he finally offered.

"Right," John said, "because money is a big issue for you. Why didn't you sell it, then?"

Closing both laptops with an air of finality, Rodney admitted, "I don't know, okay? It didn't seem like the right thing to do. Nothing seemed like the right thing to do at the time."

"It's a really, uh, beautiful ring." John ran a finger over it, feeling the facets of the little diamond under his fingertip.

"Jeannie helped. Picking it out." Rodney sounded embarrassed. "You know, a female perspective? Not that I didn't regret telling her about my plans later."

This made John look up. "What did she do?"

"Let's just say that she had her own theory why I couldn't go through with it, with the proposal and-- everything." Rodney gestured, blushing.

 _Couldn't,_ John thought, not _didn't_.

"You know what?" Rodney said, averting his eyes. "Keep it. Take it with you. Preferably right now. Just-- go."

"I'm sorry," John said helplessly and closed the box with a little _clack_ and an unexpected feeling of regret. "Really. I didn't mean to stir up-- Are you aware of the fact that you just gave me an engagement ring?"

"What? Oh for--" Rodney snatched the box out of John's hands, then weighed it in his own, thoughtfully. "I really thought I wanted to marry her. I wanted to want to marry her."

John took this as a sign that he wasn't supposed to leave after all. "Things don't always work out the way we want them to," he said, because he didn't have anything deep and meaningful to offer, and because hugging was something they just didn't do.

"Well, thank you for sharing your infinite wisdom," Rodney retorted, but there was no bite in it. He plucked the ring from the box and examined it closely. "Jeannie told me to keep in mind that I was buying a ring for the person I was going to spend the rest of my life with. I really tried to do that."

"You haven't given up then. You kept it," John said.

Rodney looked up at him, and John was sure everything, _everything_ , was written right there on his face.

"I really want you to have it," Rodney said. He sounded just a little surprised. And a lot frightened. "I want _you_ to have it."

They stared at each other for a long moment.

Then Rodney reached out, his hand shaking, and John wasn't sure whether he should curse Rodney's bravery in the face of grave danger, or appreciate it even more now. He felt Rodney's fingers curl lightly around his wrist, turning his hand, palm up.

If this were a movie there would have been dramatic, bombastic music when the ring hit John's palm. It felt like there should be. But there was only quiet – just the sound of their breathing and the ever-present low hum of Atlantis.

John met Rodney's eyes. Slowly, he closed his fingers around the ring. The metal was cold. Rodney's gaze wasn't.

"Rodney," John said, his voice almost cracking on the name.

There was a hint of uncertainty on Rodney's face. "What?" 

"Yes."

Rodney smiled. A slow, genuine, happy smile.

It struck John that he might just have gotten married, for real, and without ever having so much as kissed the groom.

Well, stranger things had happened in the Pegasus galaxy.


End file.
